In Which Chicken is Touched...read into that what you will.

Hi there, World:

You'll be happy to know I am not writing about Silver/Purple Lexus tonight.  From here on in, my grief is of the private sort.

However, my last post about the Lexus elicited a very nice comment and I wanted to share it with you.

While perusing the blogosphere last night, I happened upon the blog of Quilting in my Pyjamas , blogging from Australia, and left a comment because her blog made me laugh and I knew I'd be back.  Like minds think alike, as it turns out, because this morning I had a return comment from her, and I am still laughing.  In case you missed it, here it is:

Hey Chicken,
Thanks for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment. It's always lucky to have a chicken visit. I wandered on over here to have a look and below is the email I just sent my husband at work.

Dear Mr. P.

I know it is my day off and I had very little planned besides cleaning the house until it sparkled. However , while checking emails this morning (I swear I was only on there for one minute) someone called The Chicken’s Consigliere sent me a message after visiting my blog and I felt obligated to respond by going and looking at her blog which is only polite if someone takes the time to leave you a comment. It only takes 30 seconds and often you don’t need to go back because then you know the person is not a kindred spirit.

Hon, I am sorry to tell you that I went to the Chicken Coop, and it is a very very very bad place.

I have a feeling I am going to go back to the bad place often, drawn by witty writing, seriously laugh out loud (repeatedly ) comments and a warped view of life I really enjoyed. I ended up spending two hours reading her blog and at one point had to go change my undies from laughing so hard. Get used to having dust bunnies the size of elephants in the hallways, no clean clothes to wear, and dishes in the sink. That chicken rocks and she is funny as hell.

Love Mrs. P

XXX

P.S. Can you pick up McDonalds and milk on the way home? I didn’t have a chance to organise dinner or do the shopping.
 
I did not copy this in order to self-promote, (well, maybe a little because, hey, she thinks I'm funny, so I must be funny, yay) but mostly to pay it forward because I appreciated the comment, I really love her blog, and I hope you'll check in with her for a visit and leave a comment if you feel likewise.  If you feel differently, please do not leave a comment because I don't need QIMP coming back to me and saying, "Crikey, Chicken.  WTF.  Why you sending all these haters to my blog".  That is just bad form. Plus I think Mr. P might have a machete.

Please visit QIMP's Blog and let her entertain you.  QIMP, thanks so much for the very nice comment.  I do believe I have met a Kyndred Spirit and littleb and I will be keeping an eye out for other oreo chocolate treats you might not have down under. 

Take care,
Chicken out

And don't forget to stop by the Chicken Crossing the Road for this post's special gift.

Today We Lay to Rest...and other stuff.

OBITUARY:

Silver, Purple Lexus, of Somewhere in New England, formerly of In-Skip Auto, Rhode Island, passed away unexpectedly on March 18, 2010, after a brief illness.

Born in Tokyo in 1997, Lexus immigrated to this country sometime shortly thereafter.  He was the beloved son of Silver Lexus and Purple Lexus of Toyota Nation, and is survived by the Chicken Family, also of New England.

Lexus is remembered for his quick pick-up, ability to start in sub-zero weather and his love of fast food wrappers, children's toys, and empty coffee mugs.  

Please join the Chicken family in a celebration of Lexus' life at Roy's Salvage Yard at 9:00 AM, March 19, 2010.  In lieu of flowers donations may be made to the Chicken's New Car Fund, Pontiac Avenue Flood Fund, or to the Teach Toyotas to Swim Fund, but preferably Chicken's New Car Fund.

And now on to more uplifting news, such as the 2010 Census, which seems to have captured the attention of several fellow bloggers and now has me thinking that I haven't given this process enough consideration.  What I have learned is that 1.) there are many confusing and complicated questions and 2.) that you are required by law to fill it out.

Ooooooh Realllyyyyyy?  And if I don't?

What happens then?  Just wondering so that I can make an informed decision.   Because the 2010 Census is the type of mail that will sit in my "Must Do Someday" pile on top of my fridge, along with my overdue donation to Boystown for the lovely gloves they sent me this past winter that I did indeed wear and was thankful for, but for which I have not yet made a sizeable donation (but totally will do someday.  See how it works?).  I'm afraid my ability to avoid the "Must do Someday" pile far exceeds the 14 day time limit given to respond. 

I know they won't hold back our tax refund because I'm pretty sure "refund" and "taxes" are not two words one would find paired together in our household.  More like "Taxes" and "Give us all your Savings". 

Of course, if not filling out the Census involves very dire consequences such as jail, or even worse, regular phone calls from enthusiastic Census Workers, then I will have to reconsider.  Because we all know how much I hate it when the phone rings. 

In that case, I will fill it out post haste and most likely with assistance from my friend Kendall. Jackson.  But I will most likely provide much extraneous information because I am sure some of these questions will not have a simple answer and therefore will require an additional full explanation, which will be neatly typed out in size 8 font and attached in duplicate just in case there is another government office that requires a copy and so that I can save some poor intern more time so that she can spend more time doing more important stuff, like attending to her drycleaning.  I'm not trying to screw up the poor intern's life.  I just want to make sure the process of recording my census results is as much of a pain in the ass as possible.  my answers are as accurate as possible. 

Chicken is a good citizen but may have a slight ODD inclination for which she is not medicated. 

Don't forget to click on the Chicken Crossing The Road for your completely free visitor gift
Chicken out

Irish Stew

This is for Anonymous who suggested that I post a recipe for Irish Stew.  Rocking idea, Anonymous!

Here you go....

Irish Stew:

Method of Preparation:  Simmer
Time for preparation:  30 minutes (please note holding time)
Cooking time:  2 days
Level of difficulty:  Easy even for special people (like me)
Tips:  Beware the Ides of March

Ingredients:
Main Ingredient:  One Irish Husband
1 Chicken
1 Flood
1 '97 silver/purple Lexus
1 Insurance company
1 zen-like mechanic

Preparation:  Mix together the Chicken, the flood and the Lexus.  Hold in Garage for 1 day.  Add Zen Mechanic and Insurance Company.  Stir well.

Set on low heat, and simmer for 2 days.

Garnish with several Salty comments and serve Hot under the collar.

For non-culinarians:  It seems the Lexus is toast.  The insurance company totaled it.  The Zen Mechanic thinks it can be saved, but he won't know until several buckets of labor money has been signed over.  It lies in a coma in a garage nearby. Does it hear us talking?  Should we put it down?  Should we hand over the buckets of money in hopes of a few more good years? 

The Lexus is old. The stitching on the leather seats is torn and the upholstery is busting out.  There is no air-conditioning.  The grill was stolen.  It is not much to look at but it is beautiful on the inside:  It always starts.  It heats up quickly.  BigB bought it when we were dating and has maintained it well all these years.  We are attached.  It has been a witness to our courtship.  It may have been the place where our son was conceived.

Just kidding. We are way too old for that.  And who wants to name a kid "Lexus", anyway. 

So we have a choice to make. 

Because I have good bloggy friends, I've become aware of another car for sale.  It might work for both our budget and our aesthetic sensibilities.  Thank you Stolen Sentiments for the suggestion:

Pretty sweet, right?  Please assure BigB that it is a Burgundy coloredish auto with a Mountain Lion sun screen.

R.I.P.

'97 Silver/Purplish Lexus.  May you enjoy your eternal rest.  Salvage will come.  (can we please have a moment of silence)

Burgundy/Barbie Pink Fiesta Circa 1981, Long may you run....

Safe Travels,

Chicken

(Don't forget to click on the Chicken crossing the road for a little mood music.  I was planning on a nice rendition of Taps, which would have been appropriate and funny, but opted at the last minute for hot Irish guys. Given the choice, I probably always will. Happy St. PD. BigB)

Life is a Highway...

Hi World:

Did you ever wake up in the morning fully prepared, "To Do" list in hand, knowing what needed to be done, and chomping at the bit to get down to it?

I had such a morning.

And then, did you ever go about your morning only to discover that this day God has other plans for you?  That God spent his previous evening cooking up a big batch of Chicken Surprise Casserole just for you?

I have tasted God's casserole.  I've savored every bite and considered every delicate flavor, every nuance, and I believe, humbly, that I can recreate that recipe here now.

Keep the following image in mind...

GOD'S CHICKEN SURPRISE CASSEROLE:
Level of Difficulty:  Supernatural
Preparation Time:  3 minutes (for God anyway, eternity or longer for you and I)
Cooking time:  3 hours
Recommendation:  Not recommended for beginners
Tips:  Start early, like at 4:00 AM

INGREDIENTS:
Main Ingredient: Water.  A lot of Water. When you think you have enough water, add another gazillion gallons.
1 Chicken
1 '97 Purple Toyota Lexus (specialty ingredient.  Substitute:  Any vehicle with height under five feet)
1 "To Do" list (entirely optional)
1 Dark and Stormy morning
1 dash unawareness
1 dash stubborness
1 dash stupidity
1 smidgen of "WTF?"
2 big pinches of "OH SHIT"
1 Big Truck with Asshole Driver
1 Smartass Cop
1 Clueless Girl in PT Cruiser
170 LBs Sleepy, disbelieving husband
1 dash AAA
110 LBs Obnoxious Teenager
30 LBs Sweet toddler

METHOD OF PREPARATION:
Mix the Chicken, Lexus, To Do List (highly optional) together with the Dark Stormy Morning.  Let sit for two minutes.  Stir in unawareness, stubborness, stupidity.  Add half of water in steady stream (more water than that.  Like a lake full of water.  That's not enough.  More....More...More.....There you go...)

Blend with "WTF" and 1/2 of "OH SHIT"

Fold in Big Truck with Asshole Driver

Stir in remainder of "OH SHIT".

Add more Water all at once

Add Smartass Cop and Clueless Girl in PT Cruiser

Freeze for 15 minutes

Preheat oven to 800 degrees

Stir up Sleepy, Disbelieving Husband

Add AAA

Bake for oh 1 hour, maybe 2

Add Obnoxious Teenager

Sprinkle with Sweet Toddler

And that, my friends, is God's secret recipe for Chicken Surprise Casserole

Or what I like to call "Happy Fucking Monday".

For you non-culinarians, here is the narrative version:

Mondays are my turn to pull the early shift at work, meaning I am up at 4 AM and at work by 5 AM.  I like Mondays because it means 3 hours of relatively quiet time in which I can catch up on things.
Today, God had another plan.

It started out predictably.  Chicken:  Up at 4 AM, showered, dressed and ready to meet the day, perhaps less alert than a normal 8:30 AM day (I say that in my own defense). 

I head out in the purple (which BigB insists is silver) Lexus towards work already thinking about what I am going to do when I get there. Completely unaware of my surroundings.

And suddenly....

In the middle of Pontiac Avenue, there is a big puddle of water.  I am already well into it when I realize that after two days of steady rain, this ain't no ordinary 'Winnie the Pooh and Tigger Too" type of puddle.  This is a "bring your speed boat and water skiis" type of puddle.  And because I am stubborn and occasionally stupid, I choose to keep going. And then because I'm afraid the car will stall if I stop to turn around, I keep going.  The water is half way up the side of the poor Lexus, who really deserves more after 220,000 miles of loyal service (Sassy, I also have that Inanimate Object empathy problem), and I am thinking to myself "When You are Going Through Hell Just Keep On Going".  We almost made it but we stalled just short of the end.  I wasn't sure what to do.  In true introvert style, I needed to think a little bit, so I turned on my hazard lights, rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.  Should I call BigB, who sleeps like the dead, or should I just hoof it home?  I sat pondering.  It was rather peaceful, actually.

That is when God chose to send the big ass truck with the asshole driver at a high rate of speed in the opposite direction.  I looked through my windshield at him, he looked at me with a maniacal grin, and I know he was thinking, "Sucks to be you mothafuckaaaaa".  I had a half second to think, "Oh Shit", as I realized my window was open and before a tsunami came pouring through my window, putting out my cigarette and my cell phone, and drenching me in cold water.   

And then, because God does have a sense of humor, the Big Ass truck with the Asshole driver stalled, too.  He must have called the Police, because suddenly they were there.  (and this is where I must point out that a little precautionary thinking by the administration of the city in which we pay our taxes might have been useful, because, doesn't that part of the avenue always flood? And shouldn't I, as a tax paying citizen be able to expect that someone, after two days of steady rain, might have thought of that before 5 AM and have been keeping an eye on it? Shouldn't there have been a cop or a fireman or a crossing guard or SOMEone there to block my path and save me from my own stupid self?)

Big sigh. 

I hauled myself out of the car, knee deep in water, and started trudging towards home.  I sauntered by the policeman in his nice, warm, dry car, trying to look cool.  He hollers out the window, "Hey, you were almost there, why'd you stop?".  I'm thinking, "Whatever, Smartass" but I say, "You know, I was going to keep going, but I thought it would be more fun to stall the car and walk home".  So he says, "Where do you live?", and I am thinking the very nice policeman, whose salary I help to pay, is going to give me a ride, but sadly, no.  I say, "About a mile" and he says, "O.K  Do you think you'll be able to move your car soon?"

And then, there's this girl in a PT Cruiser who has pulled up behind the whole mess and is waiting patiently for the go ahead because she is possibly even more clueless than me but clearly has better guardian angels because she has been blocked from entering the mess into which she would surely have otherwise entered. So I motion to her to roll down the window and I explain the situation. And give her directions.  While standing in the cold, freezing rain.  And then she says, "Thanks".  And as I continue on my way home, she passes me going in the same direction, the direction that I so kindly pointed out.  But does she stop to think, "Hey, maybe that Chick could use a ride?"  No.

I continue my walk through the cold rain.  What's a little more water, at this point, right?
I arrive home, wake up BigB just to share the misery, and inadvertently wake up the littleb, as well, and we are all just one happy family (not so much) waiting for AAA to come tow the car.  I am on the phone with Marilyn, the fairly unhelpful AAA operator, who asks me what color the car is.  I look nervously at BigB, who is standing right beside me, because I know the Lexus is purple, and I know that saying it is purple will be infinitely more helpful, and I really want to say, "Marilyn, it is Purple", but BigB is very sensitive about the color of the Lexus and claims it is Silver, and because I know he is already "highly anxious", which is code for close to blowing a spark plug or two of his own, I say "Silver", but then I cover the phone and whisper "with a purplish tint" because I really am not very bright and I can't help myself. 

Marilyn says, "Thanks, it will be 1 to 2 hours.  We'll call you" (don't call us).

So BigB goes off, huffishly, in my opinion, to wait for the AAA truck to come tow our Silver/purplish Lexus.

Then the Teenager Who Lives in the Basement rouses himself for school and wants to know what all the excitement is about and when I tell him, he says, "Really Chicken?  Seriously???".

But then littleb says, "Mommy, do you want a hug?"

Yes.  I do.  Thank you, littleb.  You are worth watching Max and Ruby times 1 million episodes. Of course, he will grow up and say, "Seriously Chicken???" too, but I am choosing to live in the moment.  Totaled Lexus and all.

And yes, the Lexus has most likely met its demise, no thanks to me, and I am having Survivor's Guilt.  And now because this post has gone on far longer than the situation really warrants, I am going to call it a night. 
Stay tuned for my next post in which I impersonate well known people impersonating my "On the Spot" reaction.

By the way, could any of you be kind enough to give a down on her luck Chicken a ride to work tomorrow? 

Riding the wave,
Chicken

Chicken Logic

Hi World,

This morning, littleb stubbed his toe on a stool in the kitchen.  He was not really hurt seeing as he had boots and socks on, but he asked for a band-aid for his toe.

littleb, like most kids his age, has an obsession with band-aids, stickers, and anything round (rocks, balls, tires, lollipops, cookies....).  I said yes to the band aid because indulgent is my middle name.

But Lazy is my first name.  I did not want to deal with taking off the boots, the socks, putting on the band-aid, then putting the socks and boots back on.

So I said to littleb, "I have an idea.  Why don't we put the band-aid on your finger?  It will still make your toe feel better and we won't have to take your boots off."

littleb thought about it.  "Put it on my finger?  Ok!"

That's what I love about 3-year-olds.  Their minds are so open to alternative medicine.

I went off to get the band-aid.

When I came back, littleb was laying flat on the floor with his arm stretched out and on one finger....was the leg of the stool that he had earlier stubbed his toe on.

I said, "Hey, littleb, what are you doing?"

littleb said, "I'm hurting my finger, Mommy"

Chicken has very strong genes.

Take care,
Chicken